


Right Number

by ah_kaashi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Apartment AU, Friendship, Gen, Humor, M/M, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ah_kaashi/pseuds/ah_kaashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“-wait, Kuroo, what if I’ve got the wrong number and I’ve like, accidentally called the yakuza? Maybe that’s why no one is picking up, because who doesn’t pick up after 3,000 missed calls?? Shit, I’ve said our names too, oh shit, Kuroo, we’re gonna die-”   </p><p>When Keiji finishes with his last lesson for the day, he doesn’t expect thirteen missed calls and several voicemails to light up on his lock screen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Number

**Author's Note:**

> Whee! This is my first fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy! I'm always open to feedback and suggestions. :)
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr @ah-kaashi

When Keiji finishes with his last lesson for the day, he doesn’t expect thirteen missed calls and several voicemails to light up on his lock screen.

He doesn’t recognize the number, but judging by the number of times the person has called, it probably wasn’t by accident. He waves absentmindedly as his orange-haired student leaves, enormous cello case in tow. How he manages to carry that thing on his back is beyond Keiji’s imagination.

His thumb presses the playback on the first voicemail as he begins to pack up his belongings. He abruptly jerks his head away from the handheld when an overly-loud voice starts speaking.

“-nah Bro, they didn’t pick up the first few times so I’ll just leave a message- oh, I think it’s going now! Hey hey hey, sorry to bother you! My name’s Bokuto Koutarou and I’m here with my bro Kuroo and um, you’re not picking up your phone, which is weird, because I’ve called like, 3,000 times in the last hour and you’d think having a cell phone would be for someone to, y'know, contact you and - ” Suddenly there’s a sharp intake of breath. Keiji quirks a brow. Is this some sort of prank?

“-wait, Kuroo, what if I’ve got the wrong number and I’ve like, accidentally called the _yakuza_? Maybe that’s why no one is picking up, because who doesn’t pick up after 3,000 missed calls?? Shit, I’ve said our names too, oh _shit_ , Kuroo, we’re gonna _die_ -" 

The rest of the thought is cut off as the line goes dead.

He stares at his phone in silence once the message ends. Who in the world had even gotten his number in the first place to even be leaving a voice message like that? It had to be a mistake, some college student prank calling his friend but accidentally messing up the digits. Keiji’s thumb hovers over the ‘Delete’ button, but…

 _Click_. "Hey!! So I checked with the manager again, and looks like I do have the right number, you just really suck at picking up your phone. Okay, _unlikely_ , whatever Bro, you wouldn’t know if I accidentally dialed the yakuza - well anyways, sorry to disturb you, but I’m standing in front of your apartment right now, and well, that’s kind of a weird thing to start out with, I guess, huh? Don’t think I’m some sort of stalker or anything, I was just in my kitchen, minding my own business, and I started to smell something really weird, like, burning?? And I was half afraid it was my brownies, man, I had just put them in the oven, but it was definitely not my brownies, so I’m wondering where it’s coming from, so I pop my head out the window and I think it smells worse outside, so I go out to the hallway and - HOLY SHIT, KUROO, DID YOU SEE THAT - !?”

Again, the line goes dead. 

 _Well, it was better than the last message_ , Keiji thinks. The man, Bokuto, had mentioned a manager, so Keiji assumes it’s about something going on at the complex; he had just moved into his new apartment this morning, but hadn’t spared a chance to look around before he dashed to the first of his private lessons. Based on what’s been said in the last message he’s slightly worried. He presses the playback on the last message, phone a safe distance away from his ear as he waits for the energetic voice to start again. 

“So I’m in the hallway - _as if he hadn’t even hung up_ , Keiji thought dryly - "and the burning smell gets stronger the closer I get to my neighbor’s - your - door and now I’m almost certain it’s coming from your place. I knocked a million times but you weren’t home and the smell keeps getting stronger so I’m ringing up Kuroo and wondering why the smoke alarm in your place isn’t going off and maybe you were sleeping, y'know? So I knocked a little harder and, well, I guess the door is bit old, because I kind of punch a hole through it on accident - sorry about that! But anyways, so now I’m able to see into your apartment and, well, it was kind of on fire. So I just thought I’d let you know and hope you come back soon!”

Keiji’s phone clatters to the ground.

\\\

Keiji sighs wearily, nodding his thanks to the firemen leaving his apartment. Luckily, his loud, brownie-baking, also incredibly strong neighbor (who had mysteriously disappeared by the time Keiji got back) had reacted quickly; only the kitchen had suffered a bit of damage before the fire department was able to come in and contain the fire. Keiji blamed his demonic coffee maker.

He sighed again, now directing his attention to the door. The hole was rather large, with more bits of wood splintering off around the edges; anyone who passed by would be able to look in, or stick their hand in and unlock the door from the inside (which is apparently how the firemen got in. They might as well have broken down the door, seeing how it wasn’t able to do its job properly now anyways). Keiji had phoned maintenance, but they probably wouldn’t get back to him until morning.

He crouched down in front of it, glaring at it; maybe if he stared long enough, it would patch itself up and he could get the rest he so desperately needed. 

“HEY HEY HEY!!!” Piercing, golden orbs pop into view, right in from of Keiji’s face; their sudden appearance makes Keiji fall backwards on his butt in surprise. “Ah, sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Keiji looks up, slightly disgruntled. Getting over his initial shock, he scrutinizes the thing, actually a person, who has appeared on the other side of his door. Loud black and white streaked hair stands impossibly in two gravity-defying spikes atop a lightly tanned forehead; below are golden eyes, now looking at him questioningly. The person’s head is cocked a bit sideways; it reminds Keiji of an owl. Keiji suddenly realizes that he’s staring and hurriedly gets up to open the door.

“Oh, thanks!” The stranger says, standing up. Keiji can see the person as more than a dismembered head now and wow, the guy is built. He’s wearing a plain navy t-shirt that show off his toned upper arms and close-fitting Adidas track pants. He wonders if this is the universe’s way of apologizing for nearly destroying his apartment. “Are you the maintenance man?”

“Ah, no, sorry!” The guy grins apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just came by with some batteries, since the ones in your smoke detector are dead.” He holds out a bag from the convenience store.

Ah, so this is the neighbor who was leaving me voicemails, Keiji muses. The hair definitely matches his voice.

He accepts the bag offered to him. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to get these for me, um…Bokuto-san, right?”

“You remembered my name! And yeah, well, it was the least I could do considering…” He gestured to the door sheepishly. “I hope it won’t be too much trouble for you…um…”

“Akaashi,” Keiji supplies. “And it’s fine. I’m grateful that you were home and noticed the smoke. My apartment would have been burned down if it wasn’t for you.”

“Akaashi! It’s really no problem. But what are you going to do about your door?”

Keiji frowns slightly. “Well, seeing as you’re not the maintenance man, and I don’t really have any sort of supplies to cover up the hole securely, I suppose I’ll just have to stay up to keep an eye out for intruders.” He groans inwardly at the thought of pulling an all-nighter.

“Aw, Akaashi, now I feel horrible! You won’t even be able to sleep tonight because I busted your door.” Bokuto pouts. Suddenly, his face lights up. “Oh! I can make it up to you! How about I stay with you and keep you company? Since we’re new neighbors and all anyways!”

Immediately, Keiji tries to shake his head. “Ah- no, that really isn’t necessary-“

“Wait, hold on! I can bring over the brownies too! It’ll be great, I swear, I’ll just go grab them and be right back!” Before Keiji can protest further, Bokuto is already halfway into his own apartment, presumably grabbing said brownies.

Keiji sighs. He supposes it wouldn’t hurt.

\\\

For a guy who’s strong enough to punch through a door, Bokuto sure makes a delicious, grandma’s recipe-worthy brownie. After successfully replacing the batteries in his smoke detector, Keiji and Bokuto are sitting in the living room eating brownies and keeping an eye on the front door.

“How come you don’t pick up your phone?” Bokuto asks, motioning at Keiji’s phone lying on the coffee table. “Kinda defeats the purpose, don’tcha think?”

“I was in a lesson, so I wasn’t able to pick up.” Keiji shrugs.

“Whoa, you’re a teacher?!”

“I teach private cello lessons on the side,” Keiji explains. “But I mostly perform.”

“Uwah, Akaashi, you’re so sophisticated,” Bokuto says, eyes wide. “Cello, huh…?” He thinks for a second, then takes his phone out, apparently looking for something.  “Ah! My parent’s neighbors have a kid that plays an instrument – is it this?”

Keiji leans over to look at Bokuto’s offered phone. On the screen is a picture of him flashing a bright smile and waving a peace sign. Next to him is an orange-haired kid, bow in one hand and precariously held cello in the other. He’s also flashing a wide grin at the camera, despite looking like the cello will crush him if it balances the wrong way. Keiji blinks in surprise.

“Oh, you know Hinata-kun, Bokuto-san? He’s one of my students. I was having my lesson with him when you called.”

“No way!! You’re the super beautiful teacher Hinata is always talking about?!” Bokuto exclaims. “I mean – not to say I’m surprised – you _are_ really beautiful!”

They stare at each other for a few seconds. Finally, it registers to Bokuto what he’s just said.

“-but not in like a, I’m trying to come onto you in a sort of way! Like, objectively, you’ve got a really nice face, not that I’ve been staring, I just…uh…Hinata was saying – I, uh, I mean, I sometimes help Hinata with volleyball.” He trails off lamely, cheeks slightly red.

Keiji hides a tiny smile under his hand. “You play volleyball, Bokuto-san?”

“Er- yeah! I’m starting my first season on the national team soon!” Despite being slightly flustered, Bokuto swells, puffing his chest out proudly. “I was one of the top five spikers in the country in high school!”

“Ah, just shy of top three, hm?” Keiji teases, earning a pout. “Maybe that’s why I didn’t meet you. I also played volleyball in high school.”

“No way!! What position?”

“Setter.”

Bokuto slams his fist into his palm. “It’s decided, then!! Akaashi, you have to toss for me sometime! I bet you have the best toss!”

“Sure, Bokuto-san. Maybe when we both have a free day.”

“Really!?! Akaashi, you’re the man!”

Normally after a long day of lessons all Keiji wanted to do was sleep, but talking with Bokuto certainly lifted his spirits. Despite having just met, Keiji feels oddly comfortable with Bokuto, perhaps due to his warm and earnest nature. While Bokuto showed him more photos on his phone and Keiji contemplated how Bokuto’s friend’s hair could stand up at such a ridiculous angle, he notices how close they are sitting. At some point Bokuto had entered into his personal space bubble; his knee was now occasionally bumping with Keiji’s, but Keiji couldn’t bring himself to mind. Bokuto’s presence is like a bright light, fending off the cold and darkness hugging at the windows.

They continue to talk late into the night, Keiji offering small comments every once in a while to supplement Bokuto’s chatter.

“So, Bokuto-san, what exactly did you see earlier when you were leaving me that message?” A faint impression of a smile again appears on Keiji’s face; as late as it was, Bokuto never seemed to tire. As Bokuto launches into his story, Keiji feels his eyes getting heavy. The sound of Bokuto’s voice is relaxing, and the warmth from sitting side by side is making him drowsy.

“Oh man, it was crazy! It was so weird, because I’m standing out in the hallway and…”

\\\

Keiji’s eyes snap open, and he looks around frantically. Soft light is filtering in through his windows, and he’s lying on the couch in his living room, a blanket carefully laid over him. He glances over at his doorway – the hole is still there – but it seems as if everything is still in order at his apartment. There’s no Bokuto in sight, however. He shifts up a little further, and a folded-up piece of paper falls from his shoulder onto his lap. Curiously, he opens it to see a messily scribbled message.

_Akaashi!! I hope you don’t mind I didn’t wake you up. You looked pretty exhausted last night so I just watched the door until the sun rose – I figure if anyone wanted to break in they wouldn’t do it in broad daylight! If you need company watching your door again, you know where to find me!! -Bokuto_

Underneath his name, Bokuto’s scrawled his number with exclamation points and volleyballs around it. Keiji rolls his eyes.

 _Smooth, Bokuto-san_ , he thinks amusedly. _But I already have your number._

Nevertheless, he puts up Bokuto’s note on the fridge and decides not to empty his voicemail.


End file.
